Tears Are Only Water
by Sid Mc
Summary: In the midst of grief, Cody falls deeply in love with the one woman he can never have.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

_Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us. –_Brian Jacques, Taggerung

* * *

William F Cody fell in love, deeply and truly for the first time in his life, at the age of thirty-five, on a cold, wet Thanksgiving morning. He had arrived at Lou and Kid's place a day later than expected, after riding through storms for nearly a week. He walked into the kitchen to find all the women hard at work. Lou and Rachel stood at the stove, laughing together. Rebecca was feeding the baby bits of bread. Stella was cutting out biscuits on the tabletop.

When he entered, only Stella noticed him. She looked up from the biscuits, wiping her arm across her sweaty brow. When she saw that it was him, the wistful expression on her face gave way to a big, welcoming smile, and Cody felt his heart suddenly give a jolt that almost hurt, and before he knew it, he was spinning. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he'd started this journey long ago, this journey toward Stella, but now for the first time, he was forced to acknowledge it.

Just a few short months after her husband's death, Cody admitted to himself that he was, and perhaps always had been, fathoms deep in love with Stella Hickok.

Cody had been there on that long ago day when Jimmy had met Stella, and on their wedding day he'd been standing at Jimmy's side in that rickety courthouse in Ogallala. Throughout their too-short marriage Cody had been a constant visitor in their home, dropping in as often as he pleased, stopping by for dinner two or three nights a week, staying over when poker games dragged on into the night. He'd been witness to their flirtations, their arguments, their family jokes, and their tears. He'd brought a succession of young ladies to them, to give or withhold approval as they saw fit. He'd scouted with Jimmy and played piano for Stella. The three of them had been more than friends; they'd been family, a tight unit of three, together against the world.

And yet...

And yet, there were times when Cody found his gaze lingering just a little too long on the graceful curve of Stella's neck, nights when he dreamed restless dreams filled with her smile and the scent of her hair, shameful moments when he envied Jimmy not just his happy life, but the woman he got to share that life with. These were things Cody never spoke of, things he never even admitted to himself. After all, what kind of man envied his best friend his wife? No kind of man, that's who.

Over time, Cody got pretty good at pretending he didn't feel such things for Stella. He became a skillful actor. He was sure no one suspected a thing. Hell, if he never acknowledged such feelings to himself, how would anyone else ever guess?

Except that sometimes he would turn his gaze from Stella only to find Jimmy watching him, not accusingly, not jealously, but thoughtfully all the same. Jimmy was a smart man. Maybe he knew the things Cody could never say to himself.

Maybe Cody wasn't as good an actor as he thought.

He wasn't, however, acting one little bit the day of Jimmy's death. Even now it ranked as the worst day of Cody's life, and probably would forever after. He had never felt such heartbreak and despair, and it was all made so much worse by Stella's own devastation, which he had felt as keenly as his own. Jimmy—his friend, his partner, his brother. Gone. Dead. They had been boys together. They had worked together and fought together. They had grown up together. His loss left Cody bereft. Stella's grief left him helpless.

And so he had brought Stella back here, back to the family in Rock Creek. He had promised Jimmy once that he would care for Stella if the worst happened. She had no family of her own and Cody couldn't bear the thought of leaving her alone in some random small town. If he could've he would've kept her with him, but of course that was impossible. And anyway, Stella needed people around her, Jimmy's people especially.

It seemed to have been good for her. At first Cody thought that those months away from Stella might have been good for him too. He met a girl or two, certain as always that each was the one. He took it as proof that those feelings he most certainly did not have for Stella were waning, had perhaps faded altogether.

That first glance of Stella after so many months away, smiling at him over a messy tabletop, and Cody knew he had been mistaken.

* * *

Thanksgiving dinner was delightful and torturous at the same time. It was the first holiday he'd been able to spend with the family in nearly five years, and everyone was so happy to see him and so thrilled to all be together, that he couldn't stop smiling. There were Kid and Lou, kissing over the turkey, and Rachel sitting on Christopher's lap. There were Buck and Rebecca snuggling their baby between them. There were all the children, such miraculous combinations of their parents. There was Teaspoon, beaming like the proud patriarch he was. And then there was Stella, flushed and beautiful at his side, smiling softly as she passed him the sweet potatoes, the gold of her wedding ring sparkling at him in the lamplight.

When everyone had settled and plates were full, an expectant lull began to fall, until they were all quiet and staring expectantly at the head of the table. Teaspoon smiled back at them. "Before we enjoy this here meal these beautiful ladies have fixed up for us, how's about I say the blessing?"

One by one, the heads around the table bent and hands were clasped together. Even the babies fell silent as, in a deep, heartfelt voice, Teaspoon said, "Lord, on this day of thanksgiving we know that we have so much to be thankful for indeed. We are thankful for each bright face around this table, the old ones and the new. We are thankful for the roof over our heads and the bounty that lies before us. We're thankful for the clothes on our backs and the land that sustains us. We thank you for the love of family and friends, for the tears we share together and most especially the laughter too. And on this day of thanksgiving, O Lord, help us to remember these things we're thankful for, to remember how much we have, and to focus less on what we don't." There was a slight pause, and they all knew what was coming; the husky timber to Teaspoon's voice, the catch in it, betrayed what was next. "Please watch over those we've lost, dear Lord, our beloveds gone too soon-Ike. Noah. Jesse. Emma. And Jimmy." Teaspoon's voice nearly broke then, but he caught himself, drawing in a wet, shaky breath. "For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."

"Amen." The family's voices, young and old, followed in an untidy chorus. There were a few sniffles. The children watched Grandpa Teaspoon with respectful awe as they always did when they saw their unshakeable hero so moved.

Next to him, Cody felt Stella's body quiver ever so slightly, as if she were overwhelmed with emotion, or as if, perhaps, she was fighting back what emotion she felt. He watched her hands tremble as she lifted her fork from her plate. The fork was nearly to her mouth when she suddenly shook her head, as if shaking away a thought, and set it back down.

The table had become lively again. Even Teaspoon had brightened and was feeding the baby mashed potatoes from the tip of his finger. Everyone was busy. No one noticed Stella until she stood abruptly, pushing her chair back from the table with a loud scrape of wood on wood. She tossed her napkin onto the table and when she felt all eyes on her, she said haltingly, "Excuse me, I need some fresh air."

She was gone before anyone could protest, or ask questions, or offer concern. Rachel and Teaspoon both stood as if to follow her, but then Cody rose to his feet and looked at them, one hand reaching out to stop them. "I'll go," he said simply.

As he walked out the door, Cody glanced at the coat rack. Stella hadn't taken a coat and he wasn't sure which one was hers, so he grabbed his own instead, and walked out into the cold and still November evening.

She hadn't gone far, of course. It was too cold and it was getting dark. He found her leaning against the corral fence. The crunch of his boots on the frosty ground gave him away, and he knew she knew he was there, though she didn't turn around.

Cody saw that she was shivering already, and he knew it was from her grief as much as from the freezing night. She had her arms wrapped around her middle. Even in the moonlight he could see how hard she was clutching at her sides. Without a word he slipped his overcoat around her shoulders and stood next to her.

"You always did have a way with a dramatic exit," he said wryly.

He was rewarded with a laugh, albeit a small one. "Jimmy always brought it out in me," was all Stella said. Cody was gratified to see that she was sliding her arms into the sleeves of his coat and gathering it close around her.

"Y'all didn't fight much, but when you did, whoo boy." Cody shook his head.

"As I recall, you used to stick around for the really good ones," Stella retorted, some spirit coming back to her voice.

Cody laughed. "I couldn't help it. It was awful fun to watch Jimmy turn purple, and those eyes of yours practically give off sparks. It was some good entertainment. Anyway, y'all always made up pretty quick afterward."

"Thank goodness you didn't ever stick around for _that_," Stella teased. Then she whispered, "But you were there for the important things."

"I always will be," he promised. He stared at her, intent, eyes searching her sweet face for clues to what she might be thinking.

"I'm so glad you're here, Billy."

"You doin' all right, Stells?" Her tone worried him. He recalled her sad eyes when he'd come into the kitchen that afternoon.

Stella lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I'm all right. Maybe a little restless from time to time, but all right mostly."

"Restless, huh? Life gettin' a little dull out here on the prairie, compared to our wild old days?"

They both laughed together, a comfortable, companionable laugh that spoke of their years of intimacy and friendship. Cody remembered how easy it always was to make Stella laugh, to laugh with her. And he remembered how the sound of their laughter had always before been accompanied by the sound of Jimmy's. It was a lonely thought.

Sighing, Cody rested his forearms against the corral fence and bowed his head. He was silent. He heard the crunch of Stella's footsteps and felt the heat of her body as she moved closer to him until she had pressed herself into his side. Then she lowered her head to rest on his shoulder, taking one of his hands in hers.

"Do you remember the Thanksgiving when I had that terrible cold?" she asked after a long pause.

"You mean the one where you accidentally used salt in the cranberry sauce instead of sugar?"

"I couldn't taste anything!" Stella protested.

"Yeah, and I guess you couldn't see anything either, huh? Like labels that say 'salt' and 'sugar' as plain as day."

Stella snickered. She lifted her head away so that she and Cody were looking at each other. They were both grinning. "And you didn't say a word, just kept shoveling it in and taking big gulps of milk, and then Jimmy took one bite and said—"

"'Dammit, woman, there are subtler ways of poisoning a man,'" supplied Cody.

They giggled.

"What about the first Thanksgiving you and Jimmy were married, when we got snowed in with that mouthy preacher and his snooty wife and their hellion children?"

Stella made a sound that was a cross between a groan and a laugh. "For ages afterward, Jimmy would bolt straight up in bed in the middle of the night and he'd turn to me and say, all terrified-like, 'I dreamed the Marriott children were after me.'"

Cody roared with laughter, and Stella sank her head back down onto his shoulder as she laughed too.

"We had some normal holidays too, as I recall," he said when he had sobered.

"We had some real good ones," she agreed. The sigh that rose from her body was deep and shuddering. "I miss him, Billy."

"Me too," he said finally.

Cody shivered in the bitter night air—as much from the feel of Stella against him as from the cold. Suddenly Stella's arm went around him, and she drew him closer to her and the warmth of her body. They stood like that for a long, long time. The minutes ticked by imperceptibly as they listened to the quiet of the night, feeling the cold burrow under their skin, smelling the crisp air. The world was so still and calm, if it hadn't been for the warm glow of the house behind them, Cody and Stella might've been utterly alone.

He didn't mind too much. If he had to be alone with anyone in the world, he would want it to be Stella.

* * *

Cody had planned his departure for the following Sunday morning. He knew he had to get an early start, so he said his goodbyes to the family the night before, instructing them not to make themselves miserable by getting up on a wet and drizzly morning just to see him off. Of course Stella and Lou didn't listen. When had they ever?

When Cody trudged downstairs at four-thirty that morning, he found them both bustling around Lou's kitchen, and the smells of coffee and bacon beginning to fill the air.

"Y'all are crazy," he complained, setting his things on the floor. "You could be sleeping right now, which I tell you for damn sure is what I'd rather be doing."

Practiced as they were in ignoring him, they both did so now, and continued to attend to the food and the coffee. "Sit down," barked Lou in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

Stella met Cody's gaze, one eyebrow lifted. "I'd listen to the woman if I were you, Billy."

Grumbling as he did so, Cody sank down into a chair and glared at the two women.

"Honestly, Lou, can you believe this? The man's got two women who love and care for him-"

"Two _attractive_ women," Lou interrupted, still scrambling the eggs without missing a beat.

"Two attractive women who love and care for him," Stella continued smoothly, "tearing themselves out of their warm beds on a cold morning, at the unholy hour of four a.m., all to fix him a hot breakfast for a long journey, and instead of being grateful—"

"Instead of getting down on his knees and thanking the heavens," interrupted Lou.

"—he's moaning and groaning at us because we didn't do as we were told."

"Which was unlikely to begin with, Cody, and you ought to have known that from the start," added Lou, coming over to the table with the eggs. As she scraped them onto his plate, she said, "I guess you've been away too long, 'cause you don't seem to remember how things work in this family."

"We drew straws," Stella informed Cody, pouring his coffee. "Rachel wanted to help too, but we decided three of us making breakfast for one man was a little excessive."

Lou was adding bacon to his plate. "She wasn't too pleased about it either, let me tell you. After all, who knows when we'll get to see you again?"

"Ah hell, Lou, I told you I'll try to be home for Christmas."

"Christmas is less than four weeks away, Billy, don't you think it's possible to nail things down a little more by now?"

"And I'll remind you that it's been five years since you were here for Christmas," Lou said as both women slid into chairs and began to level their gazes at him. "My children keep asking when Uncle Cody's going to deliver his presents in person instead of by mail."

"Buck and Rebecca's baby doesn't even know you yet," said Stella.

Cody swallowed his mouthful of food and shook his head appreciatively. "Mmm, mmm, bacon and eggs with a heapin' helpin' of guilt. Sure does start the day off right." Both women were still staring at him, unrelenting. Cody heaved a sigh and threw his hands up. "All right, all right. Uncle. I give up. I'll be here for Christmas."

Lou squealed in delight, and probably victory, and jumped up to throw her arms around Cody's neck. Stella just beamed at him. After that, breakfast was a relatively peaceful affair.

* * *

By the time Cody had his horse saddled and ready to go, Lou and Stella were bundled up and waiting for him on the porch. There was a melancholy sort of look on Stella's face. Lou just looked resigned.

"You could always come home for good, and still have your travels, you know," Lou said as he walked the horse up to the porch.

"We wouldn't mind havin' you around on a more frequent basis," agreed Stella, reaching out to pat the horse's neck. She smiled at him. "It's like old times, kinda like havin' a piece of Jimmy again."

Cody felt like a traitor to Jimmy's memory, but Stella's words didn't exactly fill him with pleasure. He missed Jimmy every day of his life, but pretending it was old times wasn't going to do either of them any good. They needed to move on. And, deep down inside where he refused to admit it to himself, he didn't really like the idea that his prime attraction to Stella was reminding her of her husband.

But then she said, "And I miss you when you're not here, Billy, and mostly you're not here."

A trickle of warmth spread through him at that, but all he said was, "You girls are relentless. I already said I'd be back for Christmas, didn't I?"

"We're gonna hold you to it," warned Lou, hugging Cody. "Now I'm gettin' on out of this rain." She grabbed his head in both of her hands and looked at him intently. "We love you," she said firmly. Then she turned on her heel and headed back onto the porch.

Though the rain was soft and slow, Cody could feel the temperature quickly dropping. "You oughta head in too, you'll catch a cold out here," he said.

Stella shrugged. "I'll be all right, I'm tough."

"Yes, you are," Cody said softly, putting a hand to her shoulder.

She smiled at him. "Smooth talker."

"You take care of yourself, Stella, you hear me?"

"You too, Billy."

"I'll see you at Christmas."

"You better."

Cody opened his arms and Stella came to him. They hugged each other for a long time. He could tell she was crying, though he heard nothing. The fine trembling of her body gave her away, so Cody just held her tighter, his heart breaking for her.

"You're gonna be all right, Stells. This first year is the roughest, for all of us, but especially you. You'll get by."

"D'you think I'll ever be happy again?" she asked, her voice breaking, muffled against his chest.

"I'm sure of it," he promised.

Stella drew back, gazing at him with a tear-stained face. She wiped roughly at her eyes and tried to smile at him. "And what about you? When will you be happy again?"

"Ah hell, Stella, I ain't too worried about me. It's you I'm worried about."

"Don't be. I'm fine, I promise. Just...just come back soon, all right?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "And try to find yourself someone in the meantime. A real woman, too, not one of these doe-eyed floozies you seem so fond of."

Cody laughed at her description. He squeezed her a little tighter in his arms, murmuring against her hair, "'Doe-eyed floozies.' I sure do love you, Stella Hickok." He tried to ignore the way the words twisted his heart. He felt like a liar. He _was_ a liar, pretending he meant 'love' the way he meant it for Rachel or Lou. He was a liar, and a traitor to boot. Jimmy had been gone less than a year and here Cody was, savoring the feel of Stella in his arms.

"I love you too, Billy." Stella stood on her toes to brush a kiss to Cody's cheek. "You take care of yourself."

"I will, and you do the same. I'll be back for Christmas, and if you need me before that, I'll—well, I'll come back then." Lifting himself into the saddle, he looked down at her, trying for his old rakish smile but not entirely succeeding. He looked over at Lou, who watched from the porch, a peculiar expression on her face as she assessed him.

"See you at Christmas," he said. Then he pressed his heels into the horse's sides and tipped his hat first to Stella and then to Lou. "Ladies."

Toward the edge of Kid's property Cody urged the palomino into a brisk trot, and as he rode away, over the steady beat of his horse's hooves and the sad howl of the wind, he could still hear Stella's voice calling goodbye.

_to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

He made it home for Christmas, but just barely. Almost the moment the door closed behind him at Kid and Lou's, a terrible snowstorm began and didn't let up for almost four days. Fortunately Teaspoon lived on Kid's property, so he was able to join them for the holiday festivities, but Buck and his family, and Rachel and her husband, weren't able to get out of their houses until well after Christmas.

It wasn't bad, really, being snowed in. Lou insisted that Teaspoon stay in the house instead of heading back to his own little place to ride out the storm alone, so the house was full, and thanks to the children, especially merry. Lou and Stella fixed all sorts of treats, so the house always smelled good, and with four children running around things stayed lively and noisy, which as far as they were all concerned, was just how Christmas was supposed to be. When the worst of the storm had let up, there were snowball fights and snowmen, and then hot chocolate for afterward. And at night, after all the little ones were in bed, Lou, Kid, Teaspoon, Cody, and Stella would build a fire and pop popcorn and stay up late, talking and laughing long into the night.

Apart from the absence of Buck and Rachel and their families, it was just about as perfect as anyone could've hoped for, and Cody couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so happy and content. He was warm and well-fed and surrounded by his family, all of them tucked away in their own little world, untouched by the outside. And always, of course, there was Stella.

It was like old times, only instead of ganging up to tease Jimmy, they teased Kid and Teaspoon, and sometimes, when they were feeling brave, Lou. They baked together, both of them wearing Stella's aprons. They took turns telling the others stories about their years with Jimmy, when it was just the three of them. They made each other laugh. At night Stella would sit next to Cody on the couch, and when she fell asleep, her head soft and heavy on his shoulder, he would carry her up to her room. It felt warm and intimate, and by the end of the first week Cody realized maybe it felt too warm and intimate, as if he was trying to take Jimmy's place and Stella was letting him. He didn't like that feeling, and suddenly he felt a whole lot less happy and content.

He was pretty sure he was maintaining a front of good cheer, but naturally he was proved wrong, and of course it was by Teaspoon.

Everyone else had gone to Rachel's for supper. Teaspoon had developed a cold, so he begged off, and Cody decided to stay behind as well, telling everyone he needed to get things ready for his departure. In truth, he knew he needed to be away from Stella, away from her smile and her sweetness, and the strange and terrible things she was doing to his peace of mind.

He was packing things into his knapsack when he heard a sniffle and a cough from behind him. Teaspoon stood in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a wilted handkerchief held to his nose. "You're sure in a hurry to leave us," he commented mildly, blowing into the handkerchief with a loud trumpeting blow.

Cody turned back to the bed. "I just thought I'd be prepared. Early start and all."

"You know, Rachel was plannin' on makin' roast and potatoes. Your favorite. She'll be awful disappointed you didn't come."

"I ain't really hungry," Cody replied, his tone vague.

Teaspoon didn't comment. He crossed the room and drew aside the curtains, peering outside with exaggerated curiosity.

"Teaspoon, what are you doin'?"

"Just checkin' the sky for flyin' pigs," he replied. "Never thought I'd hear the words 'I ain't hungry' come out of your lips."

"Ha ha," Cody commented witheringly. "Cody eats like a hog, yeah, I get it."

Teaspoon turned to gaze at him, surprised. "That's a fair bit of hostility for a little bit of teasin'."

"Yeah well, I been hearin' it my whole life, Teaspoon. I got a big mouth, a big appetite, and I fall in love at the drop of a hat. Did I miss anything?" Cody shoved his last shirt into the knapsack and sank down onto the bed. He didn't look at Teaspoon.

Teaspoon was quiet, except for another quick honk into his kerchief. Cody shuddered. That kerchief was looking decidedly the worse for wear by now.

"I guess you're right, son. I'm still teasin' you like the boy you was, instead of acknowledging the man you are."

Cody sighed. "It ain't that, Teaspoon. Just…nothing. Don't pay me any mind."

Teaspoon sneezed. He wiped his nose again. Glancing down at the kerchief, he observed, "Now that is gross. I really gotta get me a clean one of these." Then, to Cody, "This wouldn't have nothin' to do with a certain pretty-eyed young widow we got livin' under this roof now, would it?"

Cody felt himself freeze up. His heart rate accelerated and pure panic set it, but he tried to be as nonchalant as he could as he answered, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Son." Teaspoon sounded amused. "I've known you since you was eighteen years old and shootin' your mouth off more'n you shot your gun. You don't fool me, so you'd best stop trying."

It was on the tip of Cody's tongue to say more, to confess everything, but shame and remorse stopped him. He didn't have any right to feel what he felt, let alone to acknowledge it. If he said the words aloud, that would make it real, and it couldn't be real. He wouldn't let it be real.

"Son," Teaspoon said again, kindly this time, "you got feelings for the gal. It's written all over your face. I admit I didn't see it right off, but once I did I couldn't believe I'd missed it."

"I don't… Uh, I don't know what you're talkin' about." Cody could feel the catch in his throat threatening to break. He cleared it away and ignored Teaspoon's gaze.

When Teaspoon spoke again his voice was so gentle and understanding that it made Cody want to howl like the eighteen-year-old boy he'd once been, the one who'd let his emotions bubble to the surface and didn't care who knew it. He missed that boy, but he wasn't him anymore. "Ah, Cody. Lie to anyone else on God's green earth, but don't lie to me."

"Teaspoon, I… She's Jimmy's wife," Cody said helplessly.

"Yes." Teaspoon wiped his nose.

"She's not over him."

"No," sighed Teaspoon.

"It'll be a long time before she is, if she ever is. She could never…she could never love me like she loved him. Jimmy was ten times the man I am—"

"None of that now. That's nonsense," barked Teaspoon.

"It's the truth," retorted Cody. "Y'all don't know, you weren't there. Jimmy was always a good man, but those last years, everything he and I went through together, the things we saw, the rough times we had, it all just—just made him better. And especially after Stella… I don't know, Teaspoon, she sorta… polished him up, refined him, without even tryin'. And I don't mean she refined him like she made him wear a frock coat and read Shakespeare. I mean she… She brought out the best in him, what was already there, what we already saw but he didn't see himself." Cody broke off to finally meet Teaspoon's eyes. "I wish y'all could've known that Jimmy, the way Stella and I did. It's the regret of my life that we had to live so far away for so long. You lost those last years with Jimmy, and boy, Teaspoon," Cody said, smiling in remembrance, "those were the best years of all."

"I regret those years too, Cody," Teaspoon admitted. "We would've liked to have you with us, sure, but it was a real comfort to know you boys and Stella were doin' so well, that you were happy and doin' good deeds. It's still a comfort." Sitting next to Cody on the bed, the older man nudged Cody's shoulder with his own. "All this ain't addressing the little problem we was just discussing."

"There's no problem and there's nothin' to discuss." Cody was done with the topic. He felt irritable. He wished Teaspoon would drop it.

"Just another one of your passin' fancies, I guess?" ventured Teaspoon, watching Cody intently.

The words, the casual assumption that this was nothing more than his fickle heart at play once more, cut Cody to the quick in a way he hadn't expected. He was thirty-five years old, deep in love with a woman who still belonged to his best friend, but to the family he would always be the impish boy chasing every skirt that wandered by.

"Yeah. Sure, Teaspoon. I reckon that's all it is."

After a long pause, Teaspoon said in that same peculiar voice, "That's what I figured. Best not to say anything to the girl, then. She don't need more burden on her shoulders than she's already got."

"I reckon you're right, Teaspoon," said Cody, and he walked out of the room.

* * *

It was Kid who confronted him next. Everyone had gone to bed and the two of them were left behind with Buck to watch over the waning fire. They had been discussing Kid's plans for the upcoming spring, his hopes for the expansion of his little home, the animals he planned to buy, the trip he hoped to take with Lou. Buck was full of plans as well. He was considering buying the property that neighbored him to the east, and he wanted to take Rebecca and the baby back to his people, to have his new son blessed with his Kiowa name.

"So what are your plans, Cody?" Kid asked.

They'd laced the hot cider Rachel had made with some of Teaspoon's rum and they all seemed to be feeling pretty relaxed. Buck's head was lolling around on the back of the sofa and Kid had his booted feet on Lou's prized cushions, which would definitely not have been allowed had she been present.

"My plans?" Cody repeated lazily.

"Your plans," repeated Buck. "You can't be wanderin' around forever, can you? I mean, you're only under contract to the Army, you ain't enlisted anymore. Aren't you ready to settle down?"

Cody considered Buck's words for a moment. He stared into the bottom of his cider mug. He wasn't sure how to tell his friends, his happily settled friends, that no, he wasn't ready to settle down. The idea had never held much attraction for him, and now that he was almost thirty-six years old, he doubted it ever would.

"Yeah," agreed Kid. He sat up, warming to the subject. "I mean, we ain't kids anymore, Cody. All this travelin' and being shuffled from place to place—I mean, don't it ever get old? Don't you get tired of it? Don't you ever want more?"

A little miffed at Kid's presumptuous tone, Cody said, "Well, actually, now that you mention it, no. I don't."

Buck raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"I like my life. I've always liked it. It's what I liked about workin' for the Express in the first place—the excitement, the uncertainty, the adventure. I know y'all got tired of it, but…that's you, not me." Cody leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. He shrugged at his friends. "It ain't a life for everybody, and maybe it won't be forever, but for me, for now, it is." He looked at each of them in turn. "Jimmy liked it too, you know. And Stella."

At the mention of Stella's name, he saw his friends exchange a glance but Cody pretended to ignore it. "I appreciate your concern, I do, but I'm…happy." 'Happy' was too strong a word, maybe, but it made his point better than 'content' ever would.

Kid sighed. He said, sincerely, "I'm sorry, Cody, I didn't mean to rile you. We're all just concerned—Rachel too, and Lou and Teaspoon. You say you're happy, but you just don't seem like you are, so we all thought maybe you were gettin' tired of this life. We thought maybe you'd want more."

"Well, your definition of 'more' might be different from mine, Kid. There's stuff I want, sure, but I do like my life, and I reckon that's pretty good to be startin' with." Cody downed the last of his cider and grimaced at how cold it was.

"So you don't have any, uh, plans?"

Cody tilted his head, watching Buck curiously. His friend seemed to be asking more than he was actually saying. "I got some ideas, but I wouldn't say I got any plans. You know I've never been much of a planner," he grinned. "Don't you worry about me, none. William F Cody always comes out on top." He set his mug down on the table with a bang and hoped that would be the end of this discussion. Yawning, he stood to go, but before he did, Kid spoke again.

"It's close to a year now since Jimmy died." Kid's tone attempted for casual, and he was nonchalantly studying the pattern of the living room rug, but Cody wasn't fooled for a minute.

He tensed up. "Yes. It is."

"It's been a hard time, especially for Stella. And you," Kid said, looking at Cody at last.

Cody moved restlessly, but didn't sit down. "It's been a hard time for all of us. What's your point, Kid?"

"Maybe, if you stayed, you two could help each other," Buck said, when Kid seemed unable to form the right words.

"We try, Cody, I swear we do," said Kid, "and most of the time Stella seems to be doin' all right. But the only times she really lights up, the only times she's her old self, are the times when you're here. I don't think we're enough for her. I think she needs you."

"She just needs time, that's all. It hasn't even been a year. God a'mighty, you got to give her time, Kid. She's not gonna be sunshine and daisies and skippin' through the streets after just a year."

Kid's temper flared and he gave Cody a hard look. "That ain't what I'm sayin', and you know it. We are doin' our best, and I just don't think it's enough."

"Stella hardly knew us when she came here, Cody," interjected Buck. He spoke low and deliberately, and both his friends knew he was trying to lessen the tension that had begun to permeate the room. "She'd seen us a handful of times when you left her here—"

"I did not _leave_ her here. I _brought_ her here. I did it because I thought it was best for her. Don't say I _left_ her here, like she was nothin', like I treated her like nothin'."

Cody's fierce tone took both the other men aback. Then Buck said, "You know that's not what I meant. I know you did what you thought was best, and I don't think it's hurt her any, but it's…it's not what she needs. She needs _you_, Cody. I think she cares for us, and God knows we care for her, but I…I think she feels we're Jimmy's family, not hers."

"You don't know that," Cody said, but his voice sounded weak to his own ears. He suspected there was truth in what his friends were saying, even if they were only guessing. He'd seen the fleeting glimpses of reserve in Stella's eyes, the smile she wore that was not her real smile. She was warm and friendly with everyone, but she held herself back in a way that was so unlike the woman he'd once known.

Sinking back down onto the sofa, he drew a deep breath, looking helplessly at his friends. "I can't stay."

"You're her family, Cody," Buck insisted.

"I don't want to be her family," barked Cody. Their startled faces gave him pause. "I mean—" he began, but realized that he couldn't find the words. "I just can't stay, all right? I got a life, and I love y'all, but right now it don't include Rock Creek. Stella's got no people. She needs you. Jimmy made me promise I'd take care of her if the worst happened, and this way I can do right by him. This way we can _all_ do right by him."

When he looked back up, Cody saw Kid and Buck exchange another look, one that was almost a silent conversation in itself. They seemed to come to some understanding, because almost simultaneously they both nodded, and then Kid said, "All right, Cody. All right. If this is what you feel is best."

* * *

Cody left on New Year's Day. He had taken the train this time, and his departure was actually at a decent hour, but it had begun to snow again, so once more he tried to discourage the family from seeing him off.

"I'm startin' to feel positively unwanted," grumbled Lou. "We used to see each other off all the time."

"Yeah. The words 'ride safe' mean anything to you?" Buck added good-naturedly.

"It's too damn cold out there. I don't want no one freezin' on my account. Kid can drive me, and that's it. I don't mind too much if he freezes his behind off."

Stella had been in bed with Teaspoon's nasty cold since yesterday, which had given Cody a neat excuse to avoid her further, but he knew the jig was up now. He would have to face her and say goodbye, and moreover he'd have to do it in the intimate setting of her bedroom. It was a thought he did not relish.

"Stella?" he said, knocking faintly at her door, hoping she might be asleep instead and he could slip out like the coward he was.

But Stella beckoned him to come in. When he did he found her lying in bed, wrapped in a heavy sweater and every spare blanket Lou had been able to find. She was reading and held a handkerchief to her nose as she did. Her vivid blue eyes were dulled from the sickness, and watery, and her nose was red, and Cody knew he must really love her, because as a rule he liked women clean and pretty, and here she was looking like something the cat had drug in, and his heart still throbbed at the sight of her.

"Hey, Billy," she said with a smile, setting her book aside. She reached out a hand to him, then thought better of it. "Ugh. You probably shouldn't touch me, actually. I don't want you to catch anything before your trip."

"I just came to say goodbye, Stells."

"I know." She paused. "Do you really have to go? Can't you stay?"

"You know I would if I could." Not entirely truthful, but not really a lie, he supposed.

"I know, I know. You got to get back to your excitin' life, I get it." Stella's smile didn't quite reach her eyes, but Cody appreciated the effort. "Write me and tell me all about your travels. I live for your letters. It's almost as good as bein' there."

Knowing her as well as he did, Cody recognized the wistfulness in her voice and her eyes. He sat down on the bed next to her feet. "Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes." She met his eye and admitted, "All the time."

"You know I'd take you with me if I could." And he would, but that was one mighty big 'if' they were talking about, and an 'if' not likely to ever happen.

"I know. Don't worry about me, all right? I'll be fine."

Cody grinned. "I think we had this conversation the last time I was here."

"We did, didn't we?" she said with a laugh.

"Now's the part where you tell me to stay away from certain womanly wiles," he urged.

Stella rolled her eyes. "Like that advice has ever worked. I might as well save my breath."

"I'm a lost cause, huh?"

Cody loved the way Stella's face softened, and the way she placed a soft, warm hand on his leg, and said, "_Never_," in as fierce a tone as he'd ever heard from her. There was so much love in her words, in the smile she gave him, that it shot right through him, warming him from the inside out, making him feel a dizzying rush of something that might've been hope.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her, right then and there. "I'll wait for you," he wanted to say. "Even if you could never love me the way you loved Jimmy, if you think you can ever love me at all, I'll wait for you."

But of course, that was ridiculous. He had only to sweep his eyes around the room to remind himself of that. There was a photograph of Jimmy on the bedside table, and across the room hung a large photograph of Jimmy and Stella on their wedding day. The sweater Stella wore he recognized as one of Jimmy's, and the hand she rested on his knee bore her wedding ring. Jimmy had claimed her for always, which was as it should be.

"I should really go," Cody said. It was an effort not to betray his disappointment and self-pity, but he did his best. He raised Stella's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He held her hand just a fraction too long, staring at her, memorizing once more the lines and curves of her face. Her beloved face.

Then he said goodbye, and left the room, and boarded a train to leave Rock Creek, and went home and told himself to get over this, and get past it, whatever it took.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Getting over it was impossible, and getting past it didn't prove much easier, so Cody did the next best thing and pretended. Pretending wasn't so bad, really, and turned out to be surprisingly easy. He kept busy with his work and with a few of those doe-eyed floozies Stella so deplored. He wrote letters home, and in his letters to Stella he was careful to be the same old Billy. Never did he allow his thoughts to rest on her for longer than a moment.

Mostly he traveled. After Christmas the Army sent him off to Montana, and then to Colorado, which was always a favorite. The rest of the winter was passed in the wilds of the Rockies, and when the snow finally began to melt and the air felt just the tiniest bit warmer, he headed back home once more.

It was the anniversary of Jimmy's death.

Jimmy had been buried, according to his wishes, in the Rock Creek cemetery, and both times he'd been home Cody had paid his respects at his friend's grave, but he had always gone alone. Even though he knew the family mourned along with him, he found he was unable to share his own private grief with anyone but Jimmy himself. Not even with Stella did he bare his soul, fearing that to burden her with his own sadness would be more than she could handle. But this time, he knew the family would gather together to mark Jimmy's passing, and the thought gave him a great deal of comfort.

It might have been a somber occasion, but the children running around the homestead with their raucous laughter and wild horseplay saw to it that no one was allowed to dwell too long in sadness. There were noses to be wiped and lectures to be given, and most of all there were fresh young faces lighting the room with their smiles and sweetness, and in between it didn't leave too much time for grief, which they all knew was as it should be.

One year to the day after Jimmy died, the family gathered around his gravestone in the tiny cemetery. They brought flowers and Teaspoon read a poem, but mostly they were just together, quiet and pensive, gathered around Stella, hoping she could draw strength from them when right now she clearly had so very little.

By some unspoken agreement, everyone slowly drifted away, leaving just Cody and Stella. Cody wasn't entirely sure if she knew he was even there. She was staring at Jimmy's grave, and had been for ages. He didn't think she'd broken her gaze even once. But then she spoke.

"I can't believe it's been a whole year. Can you?"

Cody swallowed hard. "No," he said simply.

Her back was still to him, and Cody saw her head sink down, saw her raise a hand to her face as if to wipe away a tear. His heart lurched painfully, and he went to her, putting one hand to her back. As soon as he did, Stella's posture relaxed as if by magic, and she leaned back into his chest and closed her eyes.

"I'm forgetting so much about him," she said, and Cody saw tears slipping from beneath her closed lids, trailing two crooked paths down her pale cheeks. "His voice—I can't remember his voice. Or the way he smelled. I have this shirt of his—the one he loved. You remember it? He wore it all the time."

Cody chuckled. "The blue relic?"

"I forgot you called it that," she said, smiling a little. She turned her head to look at him, and he was startled by the intensity of her eyes behind their sheen of tears. "It doesn't smell like him anymore. I look at his photographs, and I—I remember so many things about him, but all the things I could feel and smell and—and all that's—all that's just…slippin' away from me, and it's like," she stopped and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, "it's like there's nothing there for me. It's like…it's like I got nothing left to hold on to."

The helpless look on her face burned right through Cody, and unable to stop himself, he burst out, _"I'm_ here. You can hold on to me."

Stella made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob, and then her face crumpled again, and she rushed into his arms, the force of it nearly knocking him off his feet, but he held on and kept them both upright. He wrapped his arms around Stella, tightly, so tightly, hoping she could feel his strength, wishing he could give some of it to her.

"You just hold on to me," he whispered into her hair.

* * *

As Cody continued to observe Stella, it was clear to him that she was…not doing well. Oh, she tried to pretend she was, and most of the family seemed fooled, but not him. The chattering and bright smiles, the quick little laughs, the bustling energy—it gave the impression of a woman who was sad but mending, but he knew it was all an act. This was not Stella, it was nothing like her. Even a Stella was who healing from heartbreak would not act like this: anxious, almost restless, like she couldn't be still, like her skin was the only thing keeping her from flying apart altogether. And her eyes—her eyes gave it all away. Stella was no actress. She could pretend with her smile, but her eyes were the eyes of a lost woman, and it was killing him to see it.

Several times he tried to talk to her, but he could never find the words. He didn't even know if he had the right to say anything at all. But if not him, then who? He was her family. He knew her in ways no one else did, or could. And yet, the words just wouldn't come. Who was he, after all, to tell her how to grieve?

But as his visit wore on, Stella's demeanor of false cheer began to wane, and finally even the rest of the family started to notice that something was not quite right. Dark circles took up residence under her eyes, and her rosy skin grew pale. She took long walks around the homestead on her own, declining even Cody's offers to accompany her. Lou said that sometimes at night, she could hear Stella pacing the floor, and once, on his way back from settling little Hunter down from a nightmare, Kid saw Stella slipping back inside the house, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her cheeks stained pink with the cold night air.

Everyone seemed at a loss what to do next. Rachel tried a motherly approach, Teaspoon told stories to distract her, Kid took her riding, and Lou tried to coax her into talking by sharing confidences of her own, but they were all unsuccessful. Stella would just give them one of her shaky smiles and deflect their attentions elsewhere as quickly as she could.

Cody had still not settled upon the right approach, and in his helplessness, instead did nothing. He didn't pretend things were okay, didn't try to distract her, didn't treat her like a fragile thing, just went on about things as if no matter what had changed or gone wrong in their lives, at last they were still Cody and Stella. It wasn't what he wanted to do. He wanted to say the perfect thing, to talk to her, to draw her out of herself, to fix her—this—all of it. But he couldn't. He didn't know how. And, surprisingly, he began to realize that his approach—or lack of approach—was just what suited Stella for now.

He took it as a good sign of sorts when she began to welcome his company again. They took walks through town together. Sometimes they had picnics by the creek with Kid and Lou's brood; Stella seemed to like their airy chatter. Once Cody rode her part of the way along the old Express route, regaling her with the story about the time he'd outrun a gang of stagecoach thieves. It was a story she'd heard many times before, but it was a particularly good one, and one that he enjoyed telling, so he told it again anyway. He was doing that a lot lately, he noticed: talking for the sake of talking. Some would say that's what he'd done his whole life, and he wouldn't argue with them, but it was nice that it was serving a purpose for once. Stella seemed to like his talking, or at least she didn't dislike it. She didn't smile or laugh like she used to, but she did seem to relax, the tight lines of grief and fatigue on her face easing as she listened to the litany of Cody's words.

The weeks passed by, and Cody's visit began to draw to a close. He'd planned to stay only a month, but as Stella's sadness seemed to deepen, the family had prevailed upon him to stay for two. It was no hardship for him; he would've turned himself inside out if it would've made Stella happy again, but after a while, he was confronted with the fact that the family was just as worried about him as they were about her.

Everyone had gone to Christopher and Rachel's for supper. Stella had begged off for the evening and stayed behind with Hunter and Shannon for company. Kid and Lou's eldest children had both been gifted with their father's gentleness, and treated their aunt tenderly, even as they kept her occupied with their mother's liveliness.

It was a perfect spring evening, warm, with a sweet-smelling wind in the air. They were all gathered on the front porch watching Janie and Nora play in the front yard with the toddling Gregory. Conversation was light and full of laughter. For the first time since he'd arrived, Cody felt a little bit more like himself again. This was nice. This was the way it should be. This was what he wanted for Stella, why he'd brought her to Rock Creek in the first place.

Cody wondered idly if his thoughts would ever not turn to Stella.

"Penny for 'em," Rachel said, interrupting his reverie as she refilled his glass with lemonade.

"You sure you got that kinda money?" he teased, with a nod of thanks.

Rachel looked up, exchanging a glance with Teaspoon that Cody did not miss. Then she looked back at him. "Cody," she said, setting the pitcher aside and sitting next to him on the porch step. She smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt, as if buying for time, "Teaspoon and I would like to talk to you."

When he looked back up curiously, Cody saw that somehow everyone else had left the porch and gathered with the children at the side of the house without him even noticing. He thought he heard Kid suggest catching fireflies, but it was drowned out by the girls' enthusiastic shrieks of excitement.

He turned his attention back to Rachel and Teaspoon. "About Stella, I reckon," he said.

"Well, yes…and no," replied Rachel.

Then Teaspoon said, "It's come to me and Rachel that Stella ain't the only one we should be worried about."

"Me?" Cody was genuinely surprised. "Why would y'all be worried about me?" He paused. "Ah hell, y'all ain't going to give me the 'it's time for you to settle down' speech, are you?"

"No," answered Rachel with a wry smile, "we gave up on that years ago. It's your life, Cody, you can live it as you see fit. And anyway, it ain't in everyone's nature, and it certainly don't seem to be in yours."

With a creak of the rocking chair, Teaspoon leaned forward, fixing Cody with an appraising eye. He sighed. "We been so focused on Stella we find we've neglected you, son."

Cody tensed. He clutched the glass tightly in his hand. For a second he didn't answer, just looked up at the darkening sky, trying to think what to say. Then he felt Rachel's hand steal across his knee, and she gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"Honey," she said, "you have bent yourself backwards for our girl for weeks now—for months, if you're honest with yourself—and I don't think you see how it is wearin' you out. You were lookin' like your old self when you first got here, but these days you look most as bad as Stella."

"However hard it's been, son," added Teaspoon, "you been copin' real well for the most part. We been real proud of you. But every time you come back, we see how Stella's grief affects you. And it was…" he sighed again. "It wasn't so bad the first couple times, because Stella wasn't doin' so bad. But this time is different. Somethin' about it bein' a year since Jimmy died, I reckon; it's like it's finally sinkin' in, like it's really real now, maybe, I don't know. But it's affecting her in a way it wasn't before. And you're takin' it on yourself to try to fix her, to heal her, and—and you can't do that, son. It don't work like that, not for anyone. You can't heal a person before it's their time to heal, no matter how much you may want to, no matter how much you…love them."

Rachel gave his knee another squeeze. "We all love Stella," she said in her soft, sympathetic voice, "but we can't repair what's broken in her. We've tried. It's human nature to want to try. Even Teaspoon and I have, and we've had more years than the rest of you to learn it don't work like that. She has to heal herself—and she will. In her own time and her own way."

"We think you ought to go, Cody. We think maybe we were wrong to ask you to stay longer. Me and Rachel been talkin', and the thing is…Stella's relyin' on you too much. You're like a lifeline to her right now, and it's takin' its toll on you."

"You got to live your own life, honey," said Rachel gently. "You can't put it on hold for Stella's."

_But she is my life,_ he wanted to say, and it wasn't until he thought the words that he realized how true they were, and he wanted to say them so badly, to confess to Rachel and Teaspoon, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. This conversation proved that. Stella was grieving her husband—who just happened to have been Cody's best friend—and no amount of Cody's love or care would change that. And they were right: it was beginning to take its toll on him. He could feel his spirits sinking a little bit every day, watching Stella mourn even as she pretended not to mourn.

In a choked voice, he asked, "Did I do the wrong thing…bringin' her here?"

"Oh, _no_. No, Cody, of course not," Rachel reassured him.

"Absolutely not, son. We're her family, much as yours. It was the right thing to do."

Cody wasn't so sure. He could see that Stella had grown to love them all, but it didn't change the fact that she hadn't known them very well before Jimmy died, and then had suddenly been thrust upon them during the most devastating time of her life. Even though they were Jimmy's family and loved her as one of their own, how difficult must it have been to have grieved among people who were nearly strangers to her? But then, how could he have kept her with him? An unmarried man and a grieving widow traveling together? The talk would've been scandalous no matter where they were, and the Army certainly wouldn't have hired Cody back, which would've left him unable to support her anyway. So, should he have loved her enough to stay in Rock Creek with her? That was another question that had kept him up nights, and he still didn't have the answer. It seemed no matter what choice he made, he would have been guaranteed to feel guilty about it. The thought made him feel like a failure. And knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn't help Stella? Well, that made him sure he was.

* * *

The next day, rather fortuitously, a telegram came from his Army contact requesting his immediate presence in Sacramento, and Cody eagerly agreed—well, perhaps not eagerly, but he had certainly been grateful, dispatching a reply that very same afternoon. Now that Rachel and Teaspoon had confronted him with the futility of his self-sacrifice, he was ready to be gone. He didn't know how much longer he could stand being here, confronted with Stella's sadness and unable, apparently, to do a damned thing to help.

When he returned from town, he informed Kid and Lou of the telegram and of the ticket he'd purchased for the next day's train headed west. If either of them had reservations or questions, they kept them to themselves; Cody guessed they'd probably had a talk of their own with Rachel and Teaspoon. Then he went to find Stella.

He found her down by the creek, sitting quietly on the bank while the butterflies and bees zigzagged around her, her black hair gleaming in the spring sun. Her back was to him, so she didn't see his approach, but when his shadow fell over her suddenly, she said, "Knew you'd find me."

Cody smiled too, pleased to hear a little lightness in her voice again, and dropped down next to her. For a while they didn't say anything, just sat quietly together. Cody drew up his legs, resting his arms on his knees, sneaking quick glances at her profile. After his fifth or sixth, she caught him at it, and for the first time in weeks…she smiled. It fairly took his breath away, and for a moment he just stared at her.

There was something different about her today, he could see it immediately: a lift to the corners of her lips and the faintest spark in her blue, blue eyes. Even her body language seemed a bit looser. It wasn't his imagination. He knew her face like he knew his own name, and he could see the changes in it.

Stella knew him too. She could read the questions in his eyes. Her smile faltered and she looked away, but when she spoke, her voice was strong, stronger than he'd heard it in months. "I had a dream last night," she said.

The opening seemed a little out of nowhere, but Cody didn't remark upon it.

"About Jimmy."

"Oh yeah?" he asked mildly, staring down at his feet where a pair of crickets were leaping in the tall grass.

"He was…" She paused. "Mad at me."

"_Mad_ at you?"

"Yeah," she said softly, but she seemed almost amused, "real mad."

Cody waited, saying nothing.

"He _yelled_ at me." Stella's voice quivered just a little, just for a second, and a tear slipped down her cheek, but then she gathered herself back together. She even smiled again. "Said what a waste of my life it was to grieve him for so long. Said it wasn't forgettin' him to move on, and that he knew I'd love him forever, but I had a lot of livin' left to do, and it couldn't be done in the grave with him." Another tear spilled, and then another, but she was still smiling a little. "I woke up cryin'. Don't think I've cried like that since the day he was killed."

Her words awakened a memory in Cody that he had been trying so hard to forget: A cool spring morning. A desperate man with a gun. And Jimmy—strong, noble Jimmy—in the wrong place at the wrong time. Finding Stella. Telling Stella. Stella collapsing into his arms. Stella weeping over Jimmy's cold, lifeless body, bathing his face with her tears. The worst day of both of their lives.

He reached out without looking, and Stella took his hand in hers. "I don't much know," she said, "if it really was Jimmy's doin', or if it was God's, or if it was just my own common sense, but I know—I know he was right. And I been out here all day, thinkin' about that dream, even though it's mostly kind of a blur now, but…I've sort of been feelin' a little bit better the more I do." She turned to him with a watery smile. "I sound crazy, huh?"

"You sound just fine to me. I don't care if it takes a dream, or time, or a wing and a prayer, Stells, all that matters to me—to all of us—is that you're healin'."

Stella looked thoughtful. "I think I am. I don't know, Billy, I think maybe I'm goin' to be all right."

Cody looked at her, and his heart filled with so much love he almost couldn't bear it. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, or known anyone so strong. Here she sat, just a year after the loss of her husband, still torn apart by grief, yet able, finally, to see a bit of light at the end of the tunnel.

"Of course you are," he told her tenderly. "You're the only one who thought you weren't."


End file.
